A Slythery Act of Redemption
by Kalindai
Summary: After spending Christmas at The Burrow, the trio are on the hunt for Horcruxes. They arrive at a graveyard and with the help of a small phial of unknown potion, sent anomalously, Harry is able to retrieve what they came for.


**A Slythery Act of Redemption.**

As the wind howled and the rain pelted down on the windowpane, Harry stirred under the warm blankets. He turned a blurry eye to the clock on the bedside table; he could just make out the time, 05:55. He stretched and sat up. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep now. He knew Mrs Weasley's cries of "Get up!" And "Breakfast is ready!" would soon be permeating the stillness of the morning. Harry had arrived at The Borrow just last night, exhausted after a long broom journey back from Wales. He'd gone there in search of yet another of Voldemort's horcruxes. Ron and Hermione had come with him of course. He looked over at where Ron was still sleeping; the cut on his friend's cheek was gleaming in the dark with congealed blood still visible, reminding Harry of the danger he was putting his best friends in. But he knew it was pointless trying to stop them joining him on his long journeys.

But he didn't have time to think about that now. Right on cue, 6am sharp Molly's yells could be heard echoing around the hallways of the place Harry now called home. Snapping out of his reverie, Harry got out of bed, put on his slippers ready to join the others for breakfast. He heard Ron groan from under his covers. "Morning, Ron," Harry said with a grin as Ron's ruffed up vibrant red hair emerged.

Ron yawned noisily "Why does she have to yell like that? I was enjoying my sleep."

"Oh don't moan today, Ronald. It is Christmas," snapped Hermione as she flung open the door. She went over to Ron and kissed him gently on his unhurt cheek. "Oh Morning Harry, Sleep well?" she added as almost an after-thought that Harry was used to by now.

"Oh and Happy Christmas to you too," Ron retorted in a huff with a wink to Harry as he also slipped on his dressing gown and slippers.

The three of them left the room together and hurried down stairs to the kitchen where Molly was slaving over the stove making fry-ups for everyone. Harry, surveying the room noticed that the entire family were here. Bill, Charlie and Arthur were discussing something at the far end of the large kitchen table; Fred and George were joking around as usual as they laid the table, knives flying dangerously through the air just missing Percy's ear. Harry got the impression they were doing this on purpose; the twins still hadn't quite forgiven their brother for deserting the family when the Ministry had refused to believe Voldemort was back. Percy had been accepted back into the fold in time to attend Bill and Fleur's Wedding in June. A plate knocked on Percy's head who looked up at them from his Ministry report scowling.

"Ooops sorry bro. Won't happen again." Fred grinned at his twin.

Ron and Harry sat at the table opposite Percy whilst Hermione went over to where Fleur and Ginny were helping and proceeded to help them carry large mugs of hot tea over to the table. As Ginny approached the table, she briefly caught Harry's eye and smiled shyly at him. Harry smiled back hoping that this meeting would be less awkward than their last, at the wedding. Before he had time to find out, however, Molly had brought over his breakfast, his plate piled high with eggs, bacon, sausages and mash potato.

Once breakfast was over, it was time for the presents. The table cleared, Molly and Arthur waved their wands and sent the table up to the attic so that everyone had space to pull their chairs closer to the roaring fire. Arthur acted as Santa, handing out the presents that had been placed under the large spectacularly decorated Christmas tree the night before. Harry watched as everyone laughed and joked together as they exchanged gifts, thanking each other. But there was something about their gaiety that seemed false somehow. He knew that everyone was making a special effort in view of the troubled times. He continued to unwrap his yearly jumper, noticing that Molly had outdone herself because this year's effort was a multi- coloured stripy number. He looked up and caught Ron's eye, who, by the looks of things had an identical one all except their differing initials.

Molly, who had noticed, grinned at them both.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," he said.

"You're quite welcome, dear," Molly replied. "wouldn't want you to get cold next time you...well next time you go outside," She finished in a rush, blushing and quickly looking away.

Harry felt awkward then. He knew that Molly was terribly worried for his, Ron and Hermione's safety every time they left to continue their hunt for the horcruxes. He felt guilty that they'd be leaving again the very next day. He hadn't been able to tell her yet. He dreaded her reaction.

"Another one for you, Harry," Arthur was leaning over to pass the parcel in his hands over to him. Harry was just taking it from him when he noticed in the corner of his eye a large eagle owl at the window that was now tapping at the glass with its beak, a small parcel wrapped in plain brown paper tied to its leg.

"I'll get it," Percy offered as he rose from his seat to open the window to let the bird in.

"It's for you, Harry," he said. As he weaved his way towards Harry, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared over at him. Stunned that he'd be receiving a parcel at the Weasley's, Harry took the package from Percy and stared at it. He turned it over in his hands. There was no note to accompany it. Just his name in bold black scraggly writing across the top. He opened it. Inside the wrapping was a black box, which he also opened, very aware of all those eyes watching him. The box contained a phial of some black liquid.

"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

"Just this phial. I don't know what of, there's no label," he answered her. He took the phial from the box and it was then that he noticed there _was_ a note. It had been folded up small and placed neatly under the glass tube. Unfolding it, Harry started to read. It didn't say much; just the words, "The potion contained in this phial will come in useful. Use it well, Potter, there is only enough here for one and all of it must be drunk in one go, otherwise it won't work, the measurements are very precise." It wasn't signed, but the spidery writing looked eerily familiar to him.

Having excused himself from the others and signalling to Ron to follow, he sat on Ron's bed staring again at this mysterious gift. "Who's it from, do you think?" Ron asked as Harry passed it to him for a closer look.

"I dunno for sure, but I think Snape sent it."

"Snape?" Hermione had just joined them and was now puzzling over the note. "But why would he be sending you this potion?"

"Perhaps it's poison. He finished Dumbledore off and now he's after you, mate," Ron looked deadly serious.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Ron!" Hermione looked over at Harry. "The note says 'Use it well.' Harry, if this is from Professor Snape, perhaps he's trying to help you."

Use it well. Those three simple words bit into Harry's conscience and a memory of a very similar note came to the surface. That's what Dumbledore's note had said, what now seemed a lifetime ago when he'd been sent his invisibility cloak. Could it be possible Snape was trying to help? But how could he have known what Harry needed it for? Then he remembered that awful night as he had watched horrified and powerless as Dumbledore was mercilessly murdered.

"I don't care what it is or what it's for. I'm not using anything that slimy git has sent me," and he flung the phial into his open trunk unthinkingly and stormed out the room, Ron and Hermione looking at him completely dumbfounded.

* * * *

Two long and exhausting days of travel later and they were facing the entrance of a graveyard as the first flakes of snow began to fall. A graveyard Harry had thought he'd never have to see again. The thought of having to go in there filled Harry with a dread that he didn't want to admit to even now. more than three years had passed since that dreadful night when Cedric had been murdered and Voldemort reborn.

They had decided to use as little magic as possible whilst travelling to avoid detection either from the Ministry or most importantly the Death Eaters. As they entered the dark graveyard, they were all too aware of how close they were to the Riddle House. The residing place of Voldemort and Wormtail before Voldemort had got his body back. They would have to take every precaution not to be spotted at this crucial stage of their plans. Plans that had been months in preparation. Harry pulled the invisibility cloak from his coat and pulled it over himself, Ron and Hermione. They had to crouch low for it to cover them. Moving around was inevitably difficult and it slowed them down but Harry knew that this was best. In a strange way, it helped to keep the noise of their footsteps to a bare minimum. Hermione had found a map of the graveyard by searching the local library's Internet archives using her mother's laptop. They had pored over the images and quickly found the location of the tomb they needed. Harry stopped suddenly, forcing Ron to bump into him. "Sorry." he whispered.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked a slight tremble in her voice.

"That Tombstone," Harry replied pointing. "That's Voldemort's dad's." It looked eerily untouched. There was no sign that anything untoward had ever happened here.

"C'mon mate, let's keep going," Ron encouraged him. They walked quickly past, Harry trying to avoid the name engraved on the front. A few minutes later and they'd found what they'd come there for. The unmarked tomb of the mysterious R.A.B. and his family.

After months of monotonous research that only Hermione had the patience to wade through, they'd finally found out who R.A.B was. They'd also discovered the whereabouts of his final resting place convinced by the evidence that Slytherin's locket, the true horcrux had been buried with him. Now they stood in front of the tomb shivering in the cold. Harry pulled the cloak off them and stared at the large stone building.

"Harry, how do we get in?" Ron asked permeating his thoughts as exactly the same thing occurred to him.

"I dunno yet. But one thing's for certain. It's not going to be easy."

"You can say that again. I supposes you have noticed there doesn't appear to be a door," It was a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah, I'd noticed," Harry started to pace around the building. Nothing. Not a door or window in sight. Turning to his friends,

"Any ideas?" he asked Hermione, who then stepped towards the imposing stone walls. Touching them tentatively as if searching for a loose brick or a hidden lock.

"I can't feel anything, Harry." Came her reply. "What did Professor Dumbledore do back at the cave?"

"Pretty much what you are doing now. Just sort of felt the magic of the place. I don't know how."

"Well, it's worth a try. Come on, Ron. Let's all try a side and see what we come up with."

The three of them did just that taking their time to feel the cold stone. But after several minutes with no luck, they stopped. They tried everything they could think of. Each of them cut their fingers with a Stanley knife they'd brought with them and smeared drops of blood onto the stone. Nothing. They tried various spells to no avail. Stepping back, Hermione looked at Harry. Slowly, she pulled out a glass phial from her jacket. "You...you could always try this," she said, nerves obvious in her tone as she handed the phial of black liquid over to him. She looked down at the ground quickly. "It's all right. I don't bite you know," he said as he took it from her.

"But you bark quite a bit, mate." grinned Ron sheepishly. Harry glanced at him but despite himself grinned back.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. But, Hermione, what makes you think it will work? We don't even know what it is."

"Actually, I think I do," she said quickly, braver now she was sure Harry wasn't going to yell at her.

"I think I remember seeing it in Snape's old potion book. It's a potion he made up himself." Harry scowled at the mention of his former potion master's name and the book he'd used throughout their sixth year at Hogwarts "It's very advanced magic." she added ignoring the scowl.

"But how is it going to help us?"

"Well, you. There's only enough for one, remember."

"Me then. What is it and how is it going to help?" Harry persisted.

"It's called Liquicorpus. It should enable you to pass through all solid objects except for solid gold. I didn't mention it before because, well..."

"I know. Look, at this point, I reckon I'll try anything. Can't hurt, can it?"

"Good luck, mate."

"Thanks." Harry took the stopper from the phial and drank the liquid within. It was cold as ice. At first, nothing seemed to happen, and then all of a sudden, he felt a slight tingling all over his body.

Hermione gasped. "You're transparent!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, we can see straight through you," Ron sounded awestruck. Sure enough, Harry glanced down at his body and was a little startled to see that he looked about as solid as Nearly Headless Nick. He raised his hand in front of him and peered through it noticing his friends gawping at him.

"That's so weird, mate," Said Ron.

"Not half as weird as it feels. Right, let's see if this works." Harry walked cautiously towards the very solid walls of the tomb. He reached out tentatively. He went to touch the stone, but instead of feeling the cold flat surface his hand went straight through. Slowly, inch-by-inch Harry made his way through the wall to the other side, facing the unknown, alone once more.

Once inside, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He was no longer _solid. How_ on Earth was he going to get the locket? Well he'd just have to try. He knew he had to work fast. He had no idea how long the potion would work and he had no intention of staying in this dreary room any longer than necessary. But he needn't have worried. The stone coffins of the family lay before him, with the occupant's name engraved on the front of each individual's headstone. He found the one he sought, using his wand to light the way. He reached for the lid to move it, but found he couldn't. Angry at his own stupidity, he removed his hand knowing he'd have to try something else. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, he took a deep breath and plunged his head into the lid. Inside were the remains of the man who, in taking the horcrux from its original slimy hiding place, had played his part to ensure the downfall of Lord Voldemort.

"If all goes well," Harry muttered to himself.

There it was. The golden locket with the ornate S etched on it that Harry recognised from the memory he'd witnessed with Dumbledore in the pensieve. It was just lying there on the bones that used to be the man's chest. Gently, Harry reached down to pick it up, his hand shaking.

"This is too easy," he thought. But he had to go on. Hesitation could see him trapped in this dingy, damp place forever. Meaning his ultimate death and the end to any hope of vanquishing Voldemort once and for all. Without this locket, and destroying the soul piece within, he, Hermione and Ron didn't have a chance. His fingers curled tightly around the locket, he moved his hand away from the skeleton and quickly shoved the necklace into his pocket, glad he no longer had to be so close to the dead man and the stench.

He ran towards the front wall, thinking of it as the barrier to platform 9 and 3/4s, hurrying now the task was done and not wanting to stay there another second. He was through the other side. He looked at his two best friends who both looked as if they'd been holding their breath. Smiling at them, he said "Got it," as he showed them the locket, the gold shimmering under the light of their wands and the brightness of the full moon.

"˜Right, let's get out of here."

They turned to leave. Just at that moment, Harry thought he saw something move to his right, just beyond another tomb. And there stood the one man Harry had always been convinced he could trust the least; the less so since the callous murder of the best headmaster Hogwarts had seen in many a year. Severus Snape was standing there, his black cloak billowing about him in the breeze. Harry thought he saw the start of a crooked smile reach the corners of his former potion master's mouth just before he disapperated from the spot.


End file.
